Killing Two Birds with One Stone
by Bluebrick
Summary: A part of Ste died that day the love of his life was shot dead on the ChezChez balcony. Ste is on the path of self destruction. Angst filled M for later chapters. Will get very dark. My first fic, read and review.
1. Killing two men with one bullet

I'm hoping this will be a long term fic. This is my very first but bare with me. Please give it a chance and please review.

The bullets fired from the snipers gun, the noise of it rung in Ste's ears. There was so much commotion around him yet Ste could not see anything but that man, that beautiful moustached man falling before him.

Ste screamed loudly and called Brendan's name as shots kept firing towards his shaking body, which was soaked in his own blood. Ste managed to escape the police mans hard grip, it must have been an adrenaline rush. In a frantic panic Ste ran up the ChezChez stairs and up the ramp towards his dying lover. The sniper halt fire and around five men chased after him.

'Brendan, Oh God', Ste screamed as he knelt to Brendan's side and touched his scarlet body. He was still alive and hanging on by only a thread.

'Please stay with me Bren, please don't leave me', Ste sobbed as he held Brendan's face in his hands. Brendan's eyes opened slightly and a small smile grew on his lips.

'Thank you Steven, for the best of years', he whispered. 'You changed everything. You taught me how to love and loved me for the monster that I am'.

'This isn't goodbye Bren', Ste cried, hardly able to talk as his breath hitched. Somebody help me'.

'No it isn't Steven. This was just our first journey of many more to come. I love you so much Steven, more than you will ever know', Brendan's breath was shallow and nearly gone.

'In the next life, Steven', he whispered. Gently, Brendan's eyes closed and his body now lay lifeless in Ste's hands.

'No, No, No! Brendan, No!' Ste frantically shook Brendan's still body as tears run down his face. Two police men grabbed Ste by his upper arms and attempted to drag him away but Ste wasn't going down without a fight.

'Let me be with him please', his voice was barely audible through his violent sobs. 'Let me be with him! Ger' off me!'. As Ste was being dragged away, a white body bag was brought up the ChezChez staircase. Set's eyes sprung open in panic.

'Resuscitate him, do something', he yelled, his voice rasping at the high pitch of it. Ste kept fighting to escape the police men's grip but it was useless, all his energy was gone. Three men placed Brendan's body in the white body bag to be removed from the scene of the crime and as it zipped up over Brendan's peaceful expression, Ste couldn't help but collapse, as the pain in his heart was all too much. It rippled from his body and shone through his pores.

Ste landed on the ground with a large thud, paramedics surrounded him immediately. They forced an oxygen mask around his mouth but he pushed it away, if Brendan would die this day, so would he. If there was no Brendan in his life, there would be no life at all.

'Let me die', Ste sobbed. 'Let me die'. And soon enough his surroundings went black.

Ste woke to find himself lying in a hospital bed. He didn't have a clue how he got there. He attempted to shuffle to sit up but a pain in his shoulder and head stopped him. Ste placed a hand on the back of his head and found a large bump. He hissed at the pain as it stimulated through his brain.

'Ste, you're awake'. He heard a voice and raised his head, Amy. What the hell was going on here? He thought to himself.

'Amy, what's 'appened?', he asked her, immediately panicked by her sorrowful expression. Amy sat on a blue chair next to Ste's bed. She reached out her skinny hand and grabbed his. She took a few deep breaths before looking to Ste with the most pitiful look he had ever seen.

'Amy, seriously! What is it, is it the kids?', he asked, frantically looking for something in her gaze which gave the story away.

'No Ste, it's not the kids. It's..', she suddenly began to sob. 'It's Brendan'. As soon as Ste heard the name he immediately recalled what had happened just a few hours ago. He grabbed his hand from Amy and ran it shakily through his hair. All his recent memories came flooding back to him. Brendan, the bullet, the blood, the body bag.

'Oh God', Ste cried, beginning to hyperventilate. Amy didn't even attempt to console him, as she knew it would do nothing, She just looked away; she couldn't bare to see her best friend like this. Just then a doctor pulled back the curtain; he immediately sensed the tense atmosphere.

'I can come back later if you would like?', he said calmly to Ste. Ste didn't hear him however. He couldn't hear anything, or see anything, but he definitely could feel something. Gut-wrenching agony.

Amy spoke up.

'It's okay doctor, I would like to take him home', she tried her best to put on a smile but her lips descended into a frown.

'You can', The Doctor smiled as warmly as he could, extremely uncomfortable in the situation. 'Steven, you have only suffered a minor bump, it..'.

'Don't call me that', Ste interrupted.

'Why? That is you're name? Don't tell me I've mixed up the patients again', the doctor smiled as he tried to add some light heartedness to the heavy atmosphere.

'He called me that', Ste began to give hard sobs from the back of his throat The doctor immediately knew who he was talking about, everyone knew.

'I'm sorry for your loss', the doctor whispered. 'You're free to leave'. With that, he handed Amy some forms and disappeared around the curtain.

It was half past seven in the morning by time Ste arrived home, he had insisted to Amy that he didn't want her help, he just wanted to be alone. She was wary about it but eventually left him.

Ste's feet led him to his bedroom, which just last night he slept in with Brendan. That thought alone sent Ste over the edge and soon he was that tearful mess again. He went in to his chest of drawers and pulled out a familiar image. It was a photograph of himself and Brendan, smiling on the docks of Dublin. Ste had taken it and Brendan is completely oblivious, he is just in mid-conversation. Ste still remembers the exact conversation, it has been about fish and chips! Such a dull moment but yet it meant so much to Ste. He loved him and Brendan being normal, talking about normal things like fish and chips. He pulled the photograph close to his chest and violently sobbed. Never again would they talk about fish and chips. Never again would they talk about anything.


	2. Bad decisions, that's alright

**Thanks** for everyone who reviewed! Sorry for the first chapter going so quickly, I wanted to make it brief. For the rest of the chapters it is going to be a lot more intense and descriptive.

Warning: some bad language.

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It was silence when Ste woke, total silence. His eyes were glued together by old tears and his pillow soaking wet still. It was half past two in the afternoon and Brendan hadn't even been dead for a day, yet to Ste it felt like forever.

Ste's heart was heavy. It felt like a brick had replaced it and was weighing down on his lungs. He couldn't breathe, he didn't want to breathe. Didn't want to live without Brendan. Now he understood how Mitzeee felt. He wished he could have been there for her more after Riley's death but they never seen eye to eye.

Ste's stomach grumbled but he ignored it. The thought of food even touching his lips was enough to make him feel sick. Suddenly he started heaving. He violently chucked up a little remain of the food he had yesterday on his bedroom floor and continued to dry wretch.

Ste collapsed to his knees and put his hands on the floor, either side of him. He couldn't cry anymore, there was not tears left. He was just...drained. Nothing could ever numb the feeling though, no one could ever take it away.

Then he remembered something his mother used to say to him as a child.

'Do you know why alcohol is better than people Ste?', she would slur, a bottle of cheap vodka in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

'Why mum?', Ste would ask, he would be genuinely interested, as he was only a young boy, and when he was around six years old, his mother was his idol.

'Because people create your feelings, alcohol takes them away'.

Those words kept echoing through Ste's head. He needed his feelings gone. He wasn't going to become an alcoholic like his mother, he couldn't do that to his children. Just enough to cope.

Ste walked into the kitchen and searched his cupboards for something that wasn't beer, then he seen it. Brendan's bottle of Jameson, looking sad and lonely in the corner of the kitchen, and Ste just stood staring at it. He was never a whiskey fan but Brendan got pretty wrecked on a couple of glasses, and there was a full bottle in the corner, Ste reckoned that was enough to get him slashed.

He reached for the bottle, not even bothering to get a glass. He unscrewed the lid and took a sniff... Brendan. That's what he could smell. Brendan the first night they met. Brendan the first time they kissed, Brendan the last time they kissed. Brendan the first time he hit him. Brendan the last time he hit him, just a couple of days ago. Even though the smell was filled with bad memories, it was still memories.

Ste put the bottle to his lips and chugged back a little. It tasted bitter and he spluttered a little, but it tasted...good. It tasted like Brendan when he kissed him. He swigged back larger gulp this time and let it burn down his throat. He liked the burning.

XXXXXX

Ten gulps later and Ste was beginning to feel dizzy. He held onto the work top next to him and knocked down a cup which fell to the ground and smashed. He laughed, because it was funny. This was good, Ste enjoyed it. When he thought about Brendan he didn't get that weird feeling in his heart again, the feeling that felt like his heart was being sliced by a sharp butchers knife. He just felt numbness and numbness was good.

He began to understand his mother, maybe she wasn't all be thought she was, maybe alcohol was her numbness.

Ste slid down the cupboard and sat on the floor. It was cold but he liked it. He continued to swig bag the whiskey until there was nothing left. His sight had doubled and he couldn't see straight. Just then someone chapped his door.

'Ste! Ste, it's me', the familiar voice called.

'Go away Doug!', Ste slurred. Fucking Doug. Why can't be just fuck of, eh? Whenever Ste wanted some time alone or needed a break, the American would always turn up.

'No Ste, let me in!', he called, banging on the door. 'I'm not leaving until I've spoke to you'.

Ste was feeling pretty wreck less and was up for an argument, so he pulled himself up using the counters and stumbled to the front door. After a lot of fiddling with the lock, he finally got the door opened. He grinned at Doug.

'Ste, are you okay?', Doug asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

'Yeah Doug! Never better', Ste slurred sarcastically.

'Ste! Are you drunk?', Doug shouted sounding appalled.

'And what if I am?', Ste said, cocking his head slightly.

Doug frantically shook his head.

'You saw this coming Ste! Don't play the innocent one, you knew what Brendan was like!', Doug shouted, furiously pointing his finger in Ste's face.

'So, this is _my_ fault?', Ste bellowed.

'No, Ste it's not. But you knew it was coming! God, Cheryl's dad has just been shot dead and all you can care about is yourself! Sitting here getting wasted! You're just like your mother!', Doug immediately caved back in to his shell.

'I didn't mean that', he said apologetically.

'No Doug, I think you do. So go back to your John Paul and get the fuck away from my front door, before I do something I probably won't regret', Ste snarled.

'Listen Ste!', Doug started.'Im sorry, I..'

'FUCK _OFF_ DOUG!', Ste screamed, slamming the door in his face.

Ste stomped into the kitchen, the anger seemed to have sobered him up a little. He picked up the empty bottle of Jameson and flung it at the wall. It smashed into a million tiny shards which spread all over his floor. The alcohol wasn't enough to numb him, he needed something stronger.

He frantically searched for his phone. It was lying on the floor next to his bed. He didn't intentionally keep this number for himself but in case he needed the money.

He found the contact.

Andy.

_Call Andy_? The phone read.

_Yes_, Ste clicked. He raised the phone to his ear.

'Hi Andy. I need some stuff'.


	3. The Puppet Master

**Thank you again for the reviews! Please Please Please if you have not reviewed yet I would like your opinion.** If you have any suggestions for the story, compliments or complaints, I'm all ears! This chapter is for Whitney as she was my first reviewer!

Two updates in one day, I was bored.

XXXXXXX

'What do you want?', Andy asked, a pissed off tone in his voice.

'I need some stuff', Ste whispered, as if ashamed but he realised there was no one to hide this from. He had lost the kids, he had lost him.

'You told me to stick it where the sun don't shine last time Hay. What makes you think i'll sell you something?', Andy teased.

Ste cocked his head, he couldn't be arsed with this shit.

'I want some smack, if that's too hard for ya, I'll go elsewhere', Ste snarled.

'No, no! I'll give you some', Andy shouted abruptly, in case Ste hung the phone up. This was drug dealers, they try to make themselves seem like the big man but really if you threaten to go somewhere else they are immediately offering you the drugs for half price. Ste knew how to manipulate people, he enjoyed being the Puppet Master.

'The alley at seven?', Andy asked. Not seven, that was too late. He wanted to be numb now.

'Five', Ste replied. He heard Andy sigh through the phone.

'Fine', he said, then hung up.

XXXXXXXX

It was quarter to five and Ste went to the bathroom before heading out to collect his package. While washing his hands he caught a glimpse in the mirror before him. His hair was ruffled and he was already in need of a small shave, as stubble had appeared on his baby face. But in a weird way, the stubble made him look younger, maybe it was the hair he thought to himself. It had flattened down, that was just the way Brendan liked it...he said it made him look cute.

Ste caught tears shimmering in his eyes in his reflection before him and he immediately looked down, as if trying to hide them. The world outside can't see how broken he really is, the world outside believes he is fixable. He took a deep breath and exhaled it out as he made his way to the towel rack to dry his hands.

He then went in to his room and opened up _that_ tin, Brendan's tin. It was just a small silver tin which was filled with emergency money, around six hundred pounds lay in it. Ste felt an over powering guilt over come him suddenly, he was using his dead boyfriends money for drugs. Brendan would be appalled, furious. But Brendan would forgive him and Ste knew that. That was enough to bury the guilt for a while.

After collecting sixty pounds from the tin, he locked up the house and made his way to the alley.

He put up his body warmer's hood, he couldn't be bothered with people noticing him and starting their _'I'm sorry for your loss'_ speech, because they weren't sorry. Everyone hated Brendan. He was a manipulative bully who rarely showed his true colours, but his true colours were _beautiful_.

Ste arrived at he alley before Andy did and now he was slightly nervous, his palms were sweaty and he was sure he felt sweat in his eyebrows. He wiped his face with the cuff of his sleeve, he has to be confident in front of Andy, he has to be the one in power.

Suddenly a tall slightly bulky man arrived at the other end of the alley, Ste instantly recognised him, it was Andy. Andy was holding the package in one hand when he approached Ste.

'Seventy pounds', Andy whispered, aware of his surroundings.

'I don't have enough', Ste said nervously.

'It's fine', Andy started. 'Pay me back next time'.

Next time. Who said there was going to be a next time? This was a one off high.

Andy grabbed the three twenties out of Ste's hand and left him in the alley. Ste put the package in his jacket and walked home quickly.

XXXXXXXXX

The package landed on the bed with a light thud. Ste just stared.

Was he really going to go through with it?

_Was he really going to take drugs?_

He now got really nervous, he could smell the sweat off his body.

He wanted this.

He didn't want this.

He wanted this.

He didn't know what he wanted.

_'Tonight we are young, so lets set the world on fire..'._

Ste's phone began to ring, making him jump back. He checked to see who the incoming caller was.

Amy.

He declined.

He then sat on the bed and picked up the brown cardboard package. He stuck his finger at the seam and tore it open. He pulled out the contents. A small bag of white powder was inside.

The smack.

Ste picked it up and observed it. He was going to do it. He opened the small plastic pouch and pinched some of it and placed it on his bedside table. He kneeled down to the tables height and held down one nostril and as he was about to sniff the door went.

'Hey Ste, let me in'.

Amy.

Ste frantically brushed the powder back into the bag and shoved it into his bedside cabinet. He ran through the house to the front door were he found Amy waiting.

She barged passed Ste into the house, in a fowl mood and Ste prayed she would not find the heroin.


	4. Euphoria

Thank you for everyone who has reviewed so far, I hope you are enjoying it. Please review, follow or favourite. The more reviews ect I get, the happier I am, the more motivated I am to do quick and better updates.

* * *

'Ste, what is going on here?!'

Amy gawped furiously and she looked at the shards of glad poking through the carpet.

'The bottle, I dropped it', Ste replied, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

'Yeah after you drank it!', Amy said in her usual furious tone. 'Doug told me!'

Ste cocked his head and licked his lips. He had to get Amy out of here quickly, because if they got along she could end up staying for a while.. And find the drugs. Whereas if he argued with her, she wouldn't stay. Plus he was annoyed. Who the _fuck_ did she think she was? Storming in here, shouting at Ste after the love of his life had died?!

'Who the fuck gives you the right, to storm in here and shout at me for having a drink after the love of my life has just died?', Ste spat furiously, squaring up to Amy.

'Steven Hay, you knew Brendan was bad news! I know you're hurting, I get it, but..',

'You _get_ it?', Ste let out a manic laughter, which lasted for a good thirty seconds. Amy backed off. She wasn't afraid, she was confused.

'Ste, I told you all along he wasn't good for you, and you never listened. I've tried to help, but please you need to let me in now. Brendan hurt you, a lot. I mean you still have fresh bruises and cuts on your face and I'm not even going to guess who they were from. I know Ste. He was a domestic abuser. And don't turn it around on you, don't do that, I know you hurt me but you stopped and never did it again but he..he promised he wouldn't do it again! He swore on your life! But he lied Ste. He wasn't a good man',she whispered soothingly.

Ste's mind began to wander. Back to _that_ night. Brendan has questioned him. Asked him whether on not he believed that he had sexual abused Kevin and cause him actual bodily harm. Ste didn't believe him. No, he didn't believe Brendan was capable of touching another person in that way, but before he knew about Danny Houston, he never believed Brendan was capable of murder, he was wrong.

Ste started ranting, something along the lines of _'a monster in your life, in your head that you can't get rid of'. T_hat day was still fuzzy in his mind but the last few lines he and Brendan had said to each other before the incident stuck out life a sore thumb.

_'Don't say that, don't say that'_

_'Why? Because for so long, that was you inside my head! And then I see you like this and it makes me realise... Maybe you are just like your dad!'_

Ste never regretted any words more in his life. Not only because it caused him physical and mental pain. The words were wrong, Brendan was nothing like his disgusting sexually abusing father but Ste didn't know that. He didn't know about the abuse. He didn't deserve the beating.

He felt an agonising shock to his face. Like someone had stamped on it was a pair of doc martens. Ste fell to the ground and clutched his bleeding nose. It was pounding. He looked up. Brendan looked furious. Ste had never been so afraid in his entire life. Brendan kneeled down and began punching Ste in the face, constantly over and over again, endless pain.

Brendan had kneeled down and attacked his own bloodied boyfriend.

If that wasn't domestic abuse, Ste didn't know what was.

Ste thought he was going to die that day. And the mental scars would never leave him.

He remembered _the punch_.

_The pain._

_The blood._

_The aggression._

_More punches. _

_More punches._

'Ste!'

_More blood._

_More punches_.

''Ste', Amy shouted, realising he was no longer there.

More punches.

Amy raised her hand and put it on Ste's face. Instinct kicked in and Ste panicked, that night swimming through his head. He pushed Amy away with all his might and she slammed back in to the wall, he ducked and raised his hands over his head, flinching. He began to whimper.

Amy let out a scream and suddenly Ste was back to reality.

He just hit Amy.

Again.

Oh God.

Oh God.

He looks up to see tears in Amy's face. She had her hand on the back of her head.

Blood.

More blood.

Punches.

Brendan.

NO!

Now was not the time to think about himself.

'Amy, I', Ste started. He didn't know what to say. Nothing could ever recover this. He stood up and approached Amy, the look on her face was twisted. She looked disgusted.

'Save it Ste!', Amy blurted out quickly.

' That is it. The kids, Leah and Lucas. Are out of your life for good'. And with that she left the house slamming the front door.

This couldn't be happening. How could she do this to Ste. How could he hurt her again. He was a monster. Just like...

It's weird how your feelings about someone could change so quickly Ste thought. He had went from loving Brendan with all his heart, to hating him.

He hated him for leaving him, abusing him and hurting him. Maybe this was the time. Time for the drugs.

Ste furiously marched in to his bedroom and yanked the drawer so hard it fell out the frame. He collected the heroin and pinched a large amount. He drew a line across the bedside table and held down a nostril. He ran his nose across he line, inhaling a deep sniff.

God this hurt.

It burned.

Ste breathed deeply, the drugs already taking their tole. He drew another line quickly and took it up the other nostril. Once done, he lay on the floor on his back.

He felt _happy._

He genuinely smiled for the first time today.

The only thing he could describe it as was euphoria. Was that the word?

There was a numbness around him, his aching cuts and bruises, now just felt like little scratches. He was totally happy, free.

Except... His mouth did feel a little dry.

But fuck it.

If this was what feeling high felt like, Ste knew this was no one night stand.

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Please review.


	5. The Letter

Does anybody mind if I change this story from the narrators POV to Ste's POV? Like a mix between the two, because I have came up with a great long term idea for this fic.

* * *

They were definitely there. He knew they were. How they got there was what was beyond him. Maybe it was in something he ate? Maybe the whiskey? Maybe the drugs. They were there. And they were so fucking itchy.

Ste frantically scratched his arms to stop the bugs climbing under his skin.

Stupid fucking bugs.

Ste was terrified, he never liked spiders and beetles and creepy crawlies. They scared him out of his wits. And to think they were underneath his skin petrified him even more.

He had to get help.

He dialled 999.

'Hello! Help, this is an emergency!', Ste yelled through the phone to the reciever.

'Sir, please stay calm. Would you like the police, hospital or fire station?', the receiving woman said calmly.

'Hospital. Please quickly', Ste cried, scratching his arms vigorously. There was blood now streaming down his sweaty and pale arms onto his hands.

'Hospital. What is your emergency?!', the man called through the phone.

'I got, I got bugs underneath me skin!', Ste cried, as tears began streaming down his cheeks. 'Please help me!'

'What do the bugs look like son?', the older man on the other side of the telephone asked.

'I can't see 'em!', Ste yelled as he looked at his arm. 'But I can feel 'em. They're climbing underneath me skin!'

Ste heard the man across the phone sigh.

'Son?', he asked. To which Ste answered with a whimpering 'yes'.

'Have you been taking drugs?', he asked calmly.

How did the man know? Ste thought to himself. Maybe his speech was slithering. Any how, why did that matter? This was an emergency.

'Yeah but I need help please!', Ste cried again.

'It's just a comedown from the drugs; your mind playing tricks on you son', the man said.

How was he acting so _fucking calm_? Why didn't he understand? This was an _emergency_!

'No!', Ste shouted. 'I've got bugs in me!'

'I can offer you rehabilitation services, but there is nothing more I can do. The feeling will pass', the man said.

With that Ste chucked his phone off the wall and began to sob. He'll just have to die alone then. With the bugs.

* * *

It was three hours later and the bugs must have escaped somehow. It was eight in the morning and Ste was exhausted. His eyelids were falling but his brain was alert. He could hear, feel, see and taste everything around him. His senses had heightened somehow.

He heard footsteps, his ears prickled at the sensation. A slam, his letterbox. He gazed from the couch to the front door.

Ste sighed and sat up. He stretched his arms out and his back gave an almighty crack. Ouch. He stood up and staggered to the his door. There was a letter on the floor. The envelope read;

_Steven Hay_

_28 Fern Street_

_Hollyoaks_

_Chester_

_DO NOT OPEN UNTIL 24th MARCH 2013_

Odd, this letter seemed so very exact.

He picked up the letter and slid the seam open with his finger. He opened it and pulled out an A4 sheet of paper. He unfolded it and began to read;

_Dear my Steven,_

_I'm sorry about this. My heart aches when I think of what I need to put you through._

_No one will ever understand how I feel about you. Only you will ever truly know how much I love you. This letter is the hardest thing I've ever had to write._

_Dieing is the only option, it's for your safety. Eventually you will understand why I am doing this. And you hopefully will forgive me. Don't hold a grudge against me please._

_I wish we could be together but we can't. Mostly because of my stupid mistakes in life catching up on me._

_I have made a few but you were not one of them. Neither was Declan, Padraig, Cheryl, Leah and Lucas, you were all the loves of my life._

_Declan, Padraig, Leah and Lucas will all be confused, please help them. Use love to get them through. Be the strong one for me, please Steven. Life will go on. In the next life Steven. No matter what._

_Love Brendan._

Ste grabbed on to the wall.

Oh god.

Was this real?

It was in Brendan's handwriting!

Did Brendan know he was going to die? And what did he mean for Steven's safety?

He's going to be sick. And he knows it. Ste pushed off the wall and staggered to the bathroom. He collapsed on to the floor and began to gag. Bile burned through the back of his throat and he threw up across the floor around the toilet.

Brendan knew he was going to die. Why didn't he tell Ste? Why did he do this to him? Did he want him to hurt? Because fuck, it hurt!

Why did Brendan expect him to be strong? His heart was broken and his mind was racing. Ste had to know. He had to understand what this letter means. 'Eventually you will understand why I am doing this'. What did this letter mean?

As he lay in his own sick, it stuck through his hair. Ste had hit rock bottom. He began to cry and small tears rolled from his purple eyes and down his pale cheeks. His lips quivered as he thought of Brendan. Dead. And realised it was a downward slope from here.


	6. Calls, Cops and Kids

Ste ached.

Ached for a fix.

Imagining a drug going in to his body was already sending him over the edge. It had been a two weeks since Brendan's death, twelve days since the letter and no one had try to get in touch. Not even clingy Doug.

Ste had arrived home from collecting a stash of heroin from his dealer Andy, who has started giving him the stuff in bigger doses, so he wouldn't have to visit daily. Ste had a two day supply, enough for about five fixes. Though Ste was determined to raise his limit, he liked to compete with himself and bring out his electrical scales. He would collect them from his kitchen cupboard and measure bigger and bigger doses everyday. It gave him the feeling of pride, of achieving something.

Today though, Ste felt gutsy. He craved for something more. More than just a sniff of heroin. That is why he was sat on the floor of his living room with a syringe in hand.

He knew everything that could go wrong with injecting heroin. He remembered classes in high school where teachers rambled on about the dangers. Not just of overdose or the drug itself, but over bleeding out and all that shit. But to be honest, Ste would happily bleed out on this worn out carpet now. Only for his rent collecter to find him at the end of the month when the rent was due.

Because no one cared anymore, he's not even sure they ever did. Everyone goes away in the end. No one is willing to fight for him or stay with him. His parents let him down, his friends let him down, the love of his life let him down and eventually he knew his kids would decide they are better of without him. Their gay junkie self-destructive father. Who was a waste of space dyslectic socially awkward chav. That's all he'll ever be to anyone. And for a while he believed he was more than that. That he was worth something. Most people when telling romantic stories about dead loved ones would say that 'they made them feel like one million dollars' or 'I felt like a princess' or a prince. Ste never felt like this. Brendan was the biggest abusive, revolting, maniac-tic psychopath he had ever known. But he was his psychopath and Ste was his little chav.

Ste thought everyone deserved a happy ending. Everyone. He even thought Pauline would eventually find a man who loves her and would turn her life around, just like him and Brendan. But now he knew if there was no hope for himself there was certainly no hope for Pauline.

Him and Brendan were both monsters. No one could deny that. They were both selfish, both abusive and both typical arseholes but they found each other. In the dark of their lives their paths interlinked and they met. Monsters in the darkness, each others touch brought out each others beauty and the light inside. Ste was the only person who seen the true side of Brendan and he knew that. Because Brendan had never been so beautiful and so happy until he met Ste, according to Cheryl. Ste and Brendan opened up new things about each other they never even knew existed.

But this love and this light was torn away from them, by a bullet on a cold night. Ste really had thought that had made it, he believed they were finally getting their happy ever after he had dreamed of that day in the deli when he made the bread ring. But Ste was left alone, cold and broken in the darkness, only a shell of who he was and who he will ever be. And it destroyed him knowing he will never ever be that fun loving deli owner again. He would just be Ste. Living under that mask had lasted to long and every devil will get revealed. On judgement day, Ste knows he will be accounted for more bad than good and that scared him.

Their was only two little lanterns that could save him now, but even they were out of reach. Little Leah and Lucas were slowly escaping from his grasp and he could only watch in horror as no matter how much he tried to turn his life around he will never be the same again. He will never be 'parent material'.

Because monsters don't deserve their happy endings, only the faultless. Like Amy or Doug. He could see them in a few years time settling down and forgetting about him. That's what always happens.

Love was something Ste only possessed a little of now and the day Brendan gets buried in to the ground Ste knew his love would go with him. Never will he be over him. Ever.

Ste looked at the set before him. The plastic syringe with the long thin needle top. The glass filled with acid, standing tall next to the small fat bag of heroin. The strap, thick and blue. He collected the strap and wrapped it securely around his upper arm, it was tight but bearable. Ste's skinny arms now had long bulging blue veins visibly protruding from them.

Ste then started on the heroin. He emptied some of the contents into the acidic glass and it's effervescence rose as it fizzled. He gazed at it longingly as he placed the syringe into the misty glass and pulled up the pump. The liquid filled the syringe fully.

Ste placed it in the crook of his elbow. Was it wrong to feel nervous? Ste didn't know if it was desperation or trepidation making him sweat furiously and shake like a leaf. He slowly and carefully pricked a piece of his skin and as he was about to have his release his phone began ringing.

His ringtone was no longer 'We are young' by fun. It was now just a typical phone bell. 'We are young' was too happy and Ste didn't deserve happiness.

Ste never usually would answer his phone but he was afraid he would call back while drugged up to his eyeballs, so he pulled the strap off his arm and placed down the syringe. He picked up his phone with his sweaty fingers and answered the unknown caller.

'Hello. Steven hay? I'm DI Milner', the man across the phone said.

'And..?', Ste replied rudely. He would never forgive the police force for killing Brendan. A bunch of fucking arseholes.

'I'm afraid I have some bad news. The bodies of Brendan Brady and his father Seamus Brady have been stolen from the morgue. I suspect it is just a few amateur criminals wanting a ransom for a dead man's body. We will try in every way we can Mr Hay for the return or the bodies but it is very unlikely. I'm sorry', Milner said matter of factly. As if it was more convenient for the bodies to have been stolen because it would cause less commotion in the morgue. Fucking cunt.

Ste was furious and shocked.

'You what?', Ste started. 'You FUCKING what?'

'Calm down Mr Hay', Milner commanded.

'Calm down?'. Ste did that creepy manic laughter again.

'YOU lost MY late boyfriends body and you're _sorry_? God Milner, you police are fucking useless!', ste screamed.

'Mr Hay!'

'No, no! I loved him and you fucking lot killed him. Do none of you care who you effect in your stupid stunts. Looking like the big men? In your oh so high and mighty hats and uniforms, with your stupid fast cars and twinkling lights! You didn't need to kill him. Just disarm him. But no. You wanted to destroy me. Because you can stand a gay man being 'appy, can you? Two men in love. Bet it disgusts you. Imagining all the things me and Brendan did together, and fuck we did everything. Bet he could give better blow jobs than your wife!'. The line went dead.

Ste punched the wall furiously. So many times that blood poured from his knuckles. He then picked up the strap with his bloody hands and squeezed it round his arm. He plunged the syringe in to his arm, gagging for a fix. He cried as it went in, cause it hurt. Hurt like a bitch. But the high kicked in and immediately he felt a release.

He relaxed in his high.

It was half an hour later and Ste was still looptied. He was giggling to himself when the door went. He was up to his eyeballs so he decided to answer it and oh boy did he regret it.

'Kids! Ameh!', ste squealed. 'What you doing here?'

'Well the kids wanted to see daddy? See how he is doing!', Amy smiled happily. She looked at Ste and immediately noticed his dilated pupils which were blown wide so that his baby blue pools were no longer visible. He smiled limply. He was pale and under his eyes were purple. His sleeve was rolled up above the crook of his elbow and their was blood running down his arm and covering his hand. He was skinny and his cheek bones protruded.

'Ste!', Amy shouted, grabbing the kids back from him and shielding them behind her.

'Are you _high_?'

'No', Ste giggled and reached out his bloody band to hug her.

'No Ste, no. That's it. The kids are out of your life for good. I promise you', she said and with that she dragged the kids out of the run down garden as they sobbed.

What had happened to daddy?


	7. Drunk on blood

Just want to get it out there, in future chapters Brendan's legacy will be included more! And there will be a happier side to this depressing story. I have planned the full of this story, I just need a lot of motivation to finish it.

I just want to say Congratulations to Kieron and Emmett for winning best partnership, I'm so proud of them. Our babies are an 'award winning' couple! EEEEEK.

Chapter warnings: dark, not for the light hearted.

* * *

**BOOM**

**BOOM**

**BOOM**

Ste'a head banged to the sound of his heart beat. He opened his eyes and was over powered with the disgusting stench of his own sick. He revolted himself sometimes.

He peeled his body from the sticky mess which was now beginning to dry in his body heat. He stumbled for the bathroom handle and opened the door, his shaking hands turned the dial on the shower and he stepped in lightly.

Shit.

He still had his clothes on.

Ste's now drenched trackie was taken from his skinny frame by his own skinny fingers. He chucked it aside and closed his eyes as the water from the shower ran from his face and down his torso. He breathed a long sigh which spluttered in to a cough, it didn't sound healthy.

Today Ste would change. He would do something different. Today Ste would forget Brendan and head in to town, to find a drug filled bar to wish the night away. He would grind up against other men. Naughtier men. Badder men. Because as it turns out, it's only the good guys that ever get hurt. And Ste would have to be a bad boy to protect himself.

He turned around and rinsed his sick filled hair under the steaming shower. He found his lynx shower gel with his hands and let a big blob slide out the bottle and on to his head. He cleaned and rinsed his hair and body, then found his best trackie and got dressed in it. But he couldn't go to any bar on an empty stomach. Now that would be foolish wouldn't it?

Wise wise Ste pulled a bottle of vodka from his kitchen cupboard and took a few gulps. It didn't burn anymore, his body was always prepared. The lid was gone from the vodka so he decided to just finish the rest.

A drunk Ste headed out for town via the bus. It was cold and wintry for April, the wind was blowing and the rain consistently fell from the sky. Ste shivered but ignored the rain as it ran down his cheeks.

As he arrived at the bus stop, there was a few drink men surrounding it. There waa around four of them, all dressed in waterproof trackies and a fag in their mouth. Ste approached them and stood next to them bus made sure But made sure to stay well away. One of them with short brown hair gave Ste a wink.

'Oi lads!', the thirty-odd year old man bellowed. Ste put his head down and sniffed.

'Look at this wee bit 'ae candy', he grinned. All three of the other men turned round and there cheeks raised at the sight of Ste. His trackie now stuck skin tight as the men looked him up and down. They smiled in a pleasing manor.

'Well who are you son?', an older man, who looked around mid forties smiled. From the looks of it he was having a midlife crisis, as even though he was dressed head to toe in the scalliest gear, he had a pricey gold necklace and ring around his finger.

'Eh..I'm Ste', he laughed nervously. Groups of men made him afraid, ever since he was young and Terry and his mates kicked his head in. But they never acted so...fond. They never asked his name, they would just ask where the little brat was an corner him in to a room.

Ste shuddered at the thought.

'I'm Billy', the man smiled. 'This here is John, Carl and Pete'.

'Ok', Ste said and then fake texted on his brick of a phone.

Suddenly John came closer to Ste and grabbed his arm.

'Would you like to join us for drinks?', he smiled.

'Nah mate', Ste replied, attempting to brush the man from his arm however he seemed to get more clingy.

'One drink, I'll pay', John smiled. He was alright looking but Ste didn't want a relationship or even a one night stand at the moment, so he made it clear it was only a drink. How could it hurt anyone?

Ste hesitated for a moment.

'Fine', he sighed. 'Just one'.

'Alright!', John turned to high five Pete.

'So where would you like to go, baby?', he said.

'Em, just town', Ste smiled.

'Perfect!', Billy said, clapping his hands as the bus arrived.

The men got on to the bus before Ste so he sat as far away from them as he could. As he stared out of the window in to the green town of hollyoaks a hand began caressing his shoulder. Ste jumped and slapped the hand off of him. Taking a massive gasp as he did.

'Oi baby', John laughed. 'Its just me!' He was acting as if him and Ste were long term boyfriends, which truly scared him.

Ste let out another nervous laugh.

'Eh, 'eya'.

'So baby, you single?', John smiled, sitting down next to him.

'I'm not looking', Ste said as casually as possible.

'I didn't ask if you were looking, I asked if you were single' John purred.

'It's..', Ste gulped, fiddling with the zip of his jacket. 'It's complicated'.

'Aw baby', John exclaimed, breathing his beer breath over Ste's face. 'You can tell me'.

Ste considered it but what use would talking to a gay junkie who was very much coming on to him.

'Nah. Your alright. Just out of a serious relationship'. Ste's eyes burned. The need to cry was over powering, it always was.

'Oh', John said. 'I can't help you with that but I can show you how to have a good time'. John's leg brushed against Ste's knee. Ste physically recoiled. John grinned.

The rest of the bus ride was awkward and intense but eventually they arrived at a chavvy drug filled bar in the back of town. It stank of stale sex and sweat, a bit lower class than Ste's own low , men and woman ground up against each other. There was hot soggy breath everywhere but in a strange way Ste felt at home, amongst his fellow junkies and heart aches.

'So baby?', John smiled. 'What to drink?'

'Vodka, ta', Ste replied, gazing around him at his surroundings. The man at the bar rolled a drink across the counter and Ste took a gulp.

'Someones keen!', John laughed, taking a shot. Ste smiled a little. John wasn't so bad.

'Another?', John asked. 'Cause a wee vod doesn't really count as a drink does it?'

'Can you really afford it?', Ste asked shocked, looking at the torn drink menu on the corner of the bar.

'You really don't know who I am, do you?', John snorted, ordering another few drinks.

'Eh?', he asked, was he supposed to know who John was.

'Do you know the drug Lord Mr. Wolf?'

Ste thought about it. Then he realised, his drug dealer always phoned a man saying.

'Howling at the moon' after he had given Ste his drugs. He guessed it was some code work for the drugs were delivered.

'He's my dealer...I think', Ste said, his eyebrows knitting together.

'Well let's just say', John started. 'Proper gangster. Anyway, see me'. John pointed at himself.

'I'm one of his top twelve'.

'Top twelve?', Ste asked confused.

'You really don't have a clue baby? All looks no brain!' John laughed. That offended Ste, everyone always called him stupid. He had 'rocks' in his head apparently. But the only one who thought he was more than that, he had lost. He had lost him. He had lost everything.

'The top twelve is twelve dealers who have direct contact with Mr. Wolf', John said smugly, passing Ste another drink.

'So you've met him', Ste asked.

'Not exactly', John said. 'Drink up!'

Ste had a few drinks but felt far drunker than he was. He was still with John. John was sort of interesting.

Eventually Ste was craving a fix.

'Want to come out for a dose?', John asked, pulling Ste by the hand.

'Alright', Ste smiled lopsidedly. He definitely couldn't see straight.

John led him through the bar and in to a door. They was in an empty bathroom with a messy 'broken' sign on the front.

'Why we coming in here?', Ste asked puzzled. Suddenly John pressed against him. He pushed Ste in to a wall and his mouth went all over him. Ste gasped, pushing John away.

'I don't want to John', Ste said, he thought John was only trying it on with him. But John never got off.

'Seriously John', Ste whispered. He was becoming afraid. John was moaning as he sucked Ste's collarbone.

Ste knew were this was going.

'John!', Ste shoved him with all his might and John stumbled backwards.

'What's up baby?', John said pouting.

'I told you drinks, that's it!' Ste attempted to pull the door handle but John was on him again dragging him backwards. Hand over his mouth to hide his screams. Ste was terrified, he yelled out but no one helped.

'Now', John said. 'We can do this the easy way or the hard way'. Ste didn't stop fighting though. He had to stand his ground. He wasn't going to let some stranger have sex with him. He couldn't. It wasn't right. Yeah he took drugs and drank like an alcoholic but he was no slut.

'The hard way it is', John purred.

'John. John please', Ste begged but suddenly John's hands were all over him. Feeling him. Touching him. John unzipped the track suit from Ste's body and moaned as he looked at his smooth torso.

'Baby, you're perfect'.

A tear rolled down Ste's cheek as John unfastened Stes track suit bottoms until he was left completely naked.

'Get off me!', Ste fought back but it was useless. John was double his size.

He felt so vulnerable at the hands of this man. At the hands of his monster. So exposed. So afraid.

'Sit down baby', John whispered, as he pushed Ste to the ground. He unfastened his trousers and produced his erection.

'Open up', he said. Ste didn't budge. John punched him across the mouth.

'Fucking open up!', John shouted as Ste spat out blood. John took this opportunity and shoved his cock in to Ste's mouth. He thrust hard, groaning and moaning as Ste sobbed. As Ste deep throated him he gagged but that seemed to make the erection bigger.

'Stand up', John said removing his cock. He dragged Ste upwards and turned him around, bending him over. Ste was very tight again, after all this time without a lover and oh god it hurt as John pushed in to him.

John yelled and grunted as he furiously thrusted. So hard, so unlike Brendan. It was messy with no rhythm. Tears slid down Ste's face as blood slid down his legs. He cried so quietly, his innocence broken. And as John road out his orgasm it fucking hurt. Ste's arse burned and he said his first prayer in ten years. He prayed for a relief. A relief from this hell on earth.

Once done, John ejected himself and fastened up his trousers. It was a quick encounter, little over three minutes but Ste knew this would chane him forever. John grabbed a broken defenceless Ste by the hair on his head and whispered in to his ear.

'Tell anyone about this any your fucking dead'.

And with that he gave Ste an almighty punch and he fell to the ground, wheezing and spluttering, in a pool of his own blood and John's cum.


	8. Justified evil

Thanks for the reviews, they men everything.

Warnings: Another heart breaker. I don't believe in any homophobia used! I am completely against it.

* * *

As Ste lay, surrounded by blood, tears and cum, he shook but he felt he couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't comprehend what just happened to him. He couldn't comprehend why him. He couldn't comprehend what the fuck was going on.

Some guy. Some disgusting rich perv just cornered him and had sex with him. Fought him, punched him, dragged him and furiously raped him. His butt ached and there was blood everywhere. The man had obviously torn his arse and broken at least two ribs of his ribs.

There was a racket outside of the room he was lying in and a man and a woman stumbled in kissing each other. The man gripped the woman's head and they grounded up against the wall. Suddenly the woman exclaimed.

'What the fuck?', she shouted. The man immediately drew off of her and turned around to see a naked broken bloody Ste on the floor.

The man froze but the woman exclaimed.

'Matthew! Jesus fuck! Matthew help him. What's happened to him?', she asked.

Matthew reached towards Ste and felt his pulse on his neck. Ste shivered and whimpered. Matthew assessed Ste quickly.

'Jesus. Looks like he's been attacked!', Matthew said rubbing his head.

'Mate. Is there anyone we can call?'

The only person Ste needed right now was Brendan and he was gone.

'No', Ste whispered.

Matthew picked up Ste's phone which was lying on the floor. He flipped ip the screen and reviewed the recent contacts.

'I'm not leaving you till I call someone', Matthew said. 'How about Doug? Will I call Doug?'

Ste droned a reassuring moan. If Matthew wasn't leaving till he phoned someone, there was a chance of Amy finding out. And that would destroy him. So he went with Doug.

Matthew dialled the number and Doug picked up.

'Ste..what?', Doug said tiredly. 'Me and John Paul are trying to sleep.'

'Hi mate. Are you a friend of..'Ste's', Matthew asked, playing the Good Samaritan.

Doug immediately sounded worried.

'Yeah, why?'

'He's been attacked. It's a bar in town called 'goin'and'gettin', unfortunately I have a bus to catch and you are the person Ste wanted to call'.

'I'll be right there!', Doug panicked and he immediately hung up.

Soon enough Doug arrived, running in with his Deli uniform shoved on. Matthew had the decency to put a zipper over Ste to cover his modesty.

'Oh my god! Ste', Doug said, frantically stroking Ste's hair. He turned to Matthew.

'Can you help me get him to the car.'

Doug and Matthew picked up naked Ste and put him in the passenger seat of the car Doug had borrowed off of John Paul. Doug thanked Matthew and offered him money but he insisted he didn't want it.

Doug drove himself and his injured best friend back to Ste's flat, and once there used himself as a crutch for Ste and brought him in to the safety of his own home.

Once in, Doug was brought to the overpowering stench of dried in vomit, drugs, alcohol and sweat. He lifted Ste on to his bed and immediately began to analyse him for cuts and bruises.

Ste's face was bloody and blue. His stomach black. Doug carefully turned him over to assess his body and noticed something he never seen in the dull lights of the bar.

Crusty blood and cum plastered Ste's behind. It was filled with hints of blue bruising which spread all the way up his back. There was red all over his back legs.

'Oh my God', Doug whispered shaking.

'It's okay Ste, it's okay', he chanted. Doug reached for the phone and dialled 999. Ste groaned in response.

'No', he whispered.

'Ste, you need looking at. It's all ok', Doug was trying to keep the calm but Ste could tell by his tone things were definitely not all 'ok'.

Ste hated Doug treating him like some messed up child. Yeah Doug was a few months older and a good few IQ points smarter, but around Doug, Ste wanted to be equal.

'Doug. Please don't. Tell the ambulance people I'm okay', Ste whimpered.

'Shh, shh, shh', Doug said soothingly, putting a cover over Ste, attempting to calm his pounding heart beat. But it never worked, it just made him feel hotter and sweatier.

'Doug!', Ste whined.

'Ste your drunk and high, your not in your right mind!'

'I'm not high!', Ste said, sounding appalled.

'Your pupils are dilated! You can't lie to me! Your slithering your speech like crazy and your face is all lopsided!', Doug immediately recoiled.

'I'm sorry', he said.

Ste was puzzled. His brain was fuzzy. He definitely felt high.

Just then the ambulance siren was heard, ringing loudly in Ste's ears.

'Please Doug', Ste began to cry. It broke Doug's heart seeing tears roll down his face.

'I don't want them to touch me. Please Doug.'

Ste began to cling to Doug for dear like when the paramedics came through the door.

'What's your name son?', the paramedic asked softly. Ste was to choked up and afraid to answer.

'It's Steven Hay', Doug gave Ste a reassuring smile but the frown lines on his head said otherwise. 'Just Ste.'

'Right come on Ste', the paramedic asked approaching him. 'Were going to put you on a stretcher and take you to the hospital.'

'No!', Ste shouted. 'Doug, please don't let them take me!' Ste was screaming, crying so loudly. Sobbing his heart out. His fingers were leaving bruises in Doug's arms, but Doug bared it.

'Come on Ste', Doug said. 'These people are going to help you. They're good people'.

Ste's eyes opened in fear, revealing his drugged up pupils to the paramedics.

'He said he was going to help me!', Ste cried.

'Who?', the paramedic asked. 'Who said they were going to help you?'

'Him!', Ste screeched. 'The one who hurt me!'

Everyone looked at Ste extremely sympathetically.

'They won't hurt you, I promise', Doug said softly. 'I'll come with you'.

'NO!'

'I'm sorry, we need to just go ahead', the paramedic said, and a few more men entered with a stretcher.

'PLEASE DOUG!', Ste screamed, hugging Doug.

The bulky paramedics picked up Ste, kicking and screaming.

'DOUG!'

'Its okay Ste, I'm with you!', Doug pulled himself from Ste's grip and held his hand.

'Please don't hurt me Doug', Ste whimpered. This shocked Doug to the very core. How fucked up must Ste's head be to think Doug would ever hurt him?

'Never', Doug said. 'I'd never hurt you'.

Ste still sobbed, which hurt Doug so much.

He began slapping the paramedics carrying him on the stretcher.

'Get the fuck off me!', he shouted. He was so panicked. The mix of drugs and trauma was driving him insane.

There was only one person he needed right now.

'Brendan!', he shouted. Doug immediately looked at him with huge concerned eyes

'Brendan!', Ste squealed again.

'He's not here Ste, he's not here'.

'BRENDAN!', Ste sobbed.

'Son, was Brendan your attacker?', the paramedic asked, pulling out a small floppy notepad.

'No, no', Doug said. 'It was his boyfriend, he died'.

'He's homosexual?', the paramedic asked.

'Yeah why?' Ste was now our of ear shot getting loaded into the ambulance.

'That changes everything', the paramedic rubbed his face.

'What..what do you mean?'

'The jury will see this 'rape' as completely differently than expected. It could be seen as he 'wanted' it'

'Why?', Doug asked.

'Because he's a gay. And upperclass people hate gays', the paramedic put it simply.

'I'm gay', Doug gulped.

'Yeah, so's my son', the paramedic said. They could still hear Ste screaming Brendan's name from the ambulance.

'My son, so strong. Catholic boy and gay. It's a hard combination but he believes God the father loves everyone the same. No matter what they do. He's my inspiration. My own son. I know, embarrassing'.

'Not at all. But about the jury, that's injustice', Doug's face began to go read with anger.

'We live in a world of favouritism for the justified evil', the paramedic said as they stepped in to the ambulance.

The ride to the hospital was a long one, with Ste screaming the place down and the nurses saying they couldn't give him any drugs until they knew what drug was already in his system.

When arriving at the hospital, Ste was immediately taken for a blood test and an anal examination, where again, he screamed the place down.

'Come in with me Doug', he had said. Once inside, a man with white gloves stuck his finger inside Ste's arse. Ste freaked out and began screaming and shaking until he just silently rocked back and forth.

Afterwards, Ste went for an x-ray, where he was found to have a broken cheekbone, four cracked ribs, a broken tail bone, a torn arse, a cracked tooth and two broken fingers.

Ste cried the full time silently, his change of behaviour immediately concerned Doug.

After a catheter was put in place, a doctor approached a worried Doug and a ghostly white Ste in his hospital bed.

'The police and the psychiatrist are here', she smiled.

The police man entered with a smirk on his face. The blond haired man and Ste were left alone in the room, along with the mans black notebook.

'Faking rapes now, are we queer?'


	9. Police encounters

Please keep the reviews coming!

* * *

Ste was startled.

'What?', he gulped.

'An eye witness said he seen you go round the back, looking for drugs and offering sexual intercourse in return for rohypnol', the police officer said, using a cunning smile.

'Rohyba.. What?'

'Scallies like _you_ will know it as 'roofies', the officer said smugly.

'Excuse me?', Ste was disgusted. He had been raped and this was how the fucking police treat him.

'Scallies like me?'

'Steven, I'm giving you the easy option here'

'Ste'

'What?'

'It's Ste', he put it simply.

'Your name here says Steven, it's a perfectly good name that your mother gave you', the policeman said...it sounded too familiar. Everything reminded him of Brendan. Even his _rapists_ bloody shoes!

'So...Steven. Drop the aligations'

'No, why are you saying this?'

'Because your a filthy fucking queer and a filthy fucking liar!', the policeman raised his voice but then looked around, cautious of his surroundings.

'What I'm gay! I'm not lying!'

'Bet you enjoyed it'.

What.

In his full life, through Terry beating him, and Mike beating him, and Brendan beating him, and Brendan breaking his heart, and his kids getting taken away, and Rae dying and Brendan dying, he had _never_ been so horrified.

'Bet I, I.. enjoyed it. You bet I enjoyed it?', Ste gripped the sides of his bed and pulled himself up, his ribs screamed at him and he grit his teeth. The officer smirked. Dots were plotting in Ste's head, joining and growing. Why was this officer so against him?

'You're working for him. Aren't you?'

'Who?'

'The man. John. Who raped me?', Ste shouted once standing up.

'That's ridiculous! You weren't raped!', the officer said back.

Ste was fucking furious and fuckin confused.

He was turning in to a maniac. He approached the officers face, pushing him against the wall. Their noses almost touching.

Ste's face was red with anger and embarrassment.

'Yeah, that's right', Ste whispered in a sultry voice. The officer raised his head and smiled.

'You're right. I _loved_ it', Ste said as sexily as he could.

'I enjoyed when he spiked my drink and led me to the back or the bar. I enjoyed it when he pushed me up against the wall and kissed me and kissed me. Even when I pushed him off, oh _God_ I loved it. Then when he tried to make me give him a blowjob and I screamed and _screamed_ for someone to help me but he put his hand over my mouth and dragged me backwards. _That_ was fun too. He then punched me on the mouth, broke my cheekbone and I gave him a blood covered blow job, and he tried to choke me with his dick, _that_ was _amazing_', Ste gritted his teeth. Another few officers had were grabbing Ste by his upper arms, pulling him from the police officer before he bit his head off. Again, this reminded him the day he was dragged from Brendan. The day Brendan died.

'I think your done now Mr Hay', a police officer said pulling him backwards.

'I'm just getting started', Ste grinned. Doug was beside him chanting 'please Ste stop it'.

'Then he pulled me up and punched me, winding me and bent me over. He pushed inside me. Did I mention he stripped me completely before all of this? Humiliating me. He then stuck his dick inside me and I screamed and screamed but he had his hand over my mouth. He pounded in to me and _tore_ my fucking asshole, he went so quickly. There was my own blood everywhere. That was the best bit. Once he orgasmed, he broke my ribs and dropped me in to a pool of my own blood and his cum. Time of my life'.

Doug was crying now and Ste was being held to the bed.

'For fuck sake, he's just been raped! Don't hold him to the bed', Doug was shouting now. Ste could only see red but the room was covered in doctors, about thirteen of them. They were all over him, holding him down to the bed as he struggled and attempted to escape there grip.

'Doug, it wasn't rape. I _enjoyed_ it!', Ste was becoming a fucking maniac, his accent so protrude. He couldnt keep the intense creepy grin off of his face. He couldn't control it.

A doctor approached him with a large needle.

'Stay calm Mr Hay, you will not feel a thing', she said softly, pursing her lips.

There was now eight large men holding different body parts, his feet, his knees, his arms. Trying to control him and stop him flailing around.

'If you put that fucking thing in me, I swear to God I will get my lawyer involved', Ste shouted.

'Ste!', Doug said, grabbing his hand.

'It's okay. We get it, you didn't want it!'

'NO! He doesn't get it!', Ste said, trying to point in the direction of that lousy fucking officer.

'Ste please!'

'I said get that FUCKING needle away from me'.

'Call security'

'Why? He's under control'

'Get this Yankee out of here'

'LET GO OF ME YOU FUCKING DEL..DELI...'

'Jab him already!'

'DELL..DELINQUENT!'

'Someone control him!'

'Doug, call my lawyer!'

'Ste, please just calm down!' Doug sounded extremely stressed. He ran a hand through his hair.

'If you put that needle in to him against his will, I will call his lawyer'. Doug pointed a finger in the nurses face.

'Please. Please let go of him. Look at his face, can you see he's terrified!'

The doctors and nurses turned to a squirming Ste, with tears in his eyes.

'Jab him', an amused doctor said.

'He's nothing special'.

* * *

Three hours later Ste woke to find Amy at the bottom of the bed.

'I can't believe your in here again', she said with tears in her eyes.

Why was she here?

'Doug told me you got attacked. That someone hit you in a bar because you took their drink', Amy said softly, grabbing his hand.

'Is that true?'

Ste found himself nodding.

'Oh, poor baby', she cooed, putting her hand around Ste's head. Ste shivered and brushed her off. _No one_ could touch him now.

'I'm moving back in'

'What?!', Ste asked. No she couldn't. He was a flipping drug addict! Speaking of drugs, he was trying to bury his itching for a fix, but sometimes the more you try to hide something, the more obvious it gets.

'I can't leave you on your own!', she said.

'No Amy, Amy please. Give me one more chance to prove I can look after myself. Please', Ste whined. He wanted Amy back more that anything but he couldn't risk her finding out about the drugs, it would destroy her.

'Fine. Fine', Amy said, raising both hands.

Things went silent for a while before Amy whispered.

'So how are you coping?'

'Fine', Ste replied simply.

'Ste, you can't lie to me', she said touching his face.

Ste pushed her away.

'Seriously Amy, I'm fine!', Ste shoved the hand from his face.

'Okay..okay'

His skin was pulsing for a fix. Like a moth to a fine, drawing him in. He needed it. He needed out of here. Now.

He pressed the emergency button on the wall.

'Ste!' Amy said, slapping his hand.

A nurse rushed in.

'What's wrong Mr Hay?!'

'I want my discharge papers', he put it simply.

'I can't', she said. 'Sir your extremely injured. You have broken bones and your have suffered a severe trauma'.

Ste signalled a 'time-out' sign with his hands.

'If I want out, I'm getting out', Ste smiled.

The woman returned with a discharge paper.

'You need to be with a responsible adult', she said.

He looked to Amy and she sighed.

'Fine. Fine', she smiled, signing the paper and handing it to Ste to sign.

Suddenly a doctor appeared in the doorway.

'No, he can't be let out yet', Dr browning said.

'We need to discuss his toxicology report. Heroin? Really? Mr Hay?'

The nurse left nervously. Amy's face screwed up and Ste froze.

That fucking bastard.


	10. Planning for the future

Amy's eyebrows knitted together.

'Heroin?', she said. As if the idea itself was bonkers.

'You've got it wrong, _Ste's_ not a drug user', she said dismissively. Ste pulled the covers up and over his bruised and puckered needle pricked arms.

'How do you explain this heroin in his system then?', Dr Browning scoffed.

'It's a mistake', Amy said in a _duh_ way. As if she was speaking to an idiot.

'Care to explain?', Paul asked. All this time Ste stayed completely silent. When Amy didn't reply, Paul pointed in the general direction of Ste on the bed.

'I don't see what I have to explain?', Amy replied.

'The way he looks!', Browning said. God the doctors in this hospital weren't fucking afraid to say the least Ste thought to himself, all the while, Amy gazed at Ste with concern.

'Just look at him!', Paul started. Amy tried to disagree. 'Your either stupid of completely ignorant, if you can't tell that this man takes drugs. He weighs at the maximum nine and a half stone, his eyes are black and his skin is pale and dry! His face is a never changing vacant expression, he looks like a zombie, and you can't see it?'

Ste put his face in his hands. Revealing the prickled marks on his arms accidentally. Amy's face dawned in realisation and the once existing concern developed in to something deeper and more aggressive; fury.

'Steven Hay. What is _that_?', she asked through gritted teeth.

'What's what?', Ste didn't know why he was stalling her, it would result pointlessly.

'The fucking needle marks on your arms!', she stood up now, pressing down on the marks.

'Ow!', Ste whined, in as chavvy sort of way. Amy's face suddenly returned to a smile when she asked Dr Browning to excuse them, but it came back as a furious looking frown just as quick as it left.

'Have you been taking drugs?', she asked simply, angrily. Ste visibly gulped. There was no point in trying to deny it. The evidence was as plain as paper, yet Ste felt the instinctual need to defend himself.

'No I..', he started before Amy jumped in. 'The truth. Because I will find out. What way is it going to be Steven? The easy way or the hard way? Have you been taking drugs?'

Ste reluctantly nodded in shame. Amy threw her hands in the air.

'You selfish bastard! That's what you are! First of all, you hit me and then I come back to help you and you throw it all back in my face!'

'It was before you came back', Ste said, as though it justified it.

'How could you do it?', Amy said angrily. 'You're so fucking selfish. You disgust me! I can't even fucking look at you!'

Ste had never heard Amy swear before, but in the last minute he was bombarded by it.

'How am I selfish?', Ste asked, his voice broken.

'You have kids to look after, and you're taking drugs! Do you want them in that world Steven? Do you?!', she shouted in his face.

'How can they be in that world when they're not even in mine?!', he shouted back now, surprised by his sudden boost or courage. 'When I was at my lowest, you took them out of my life. As far as I knew, it was forever!'

'Oh shut up Steven! You can't justify that you've became a heroin addict! I swear you will never see those kids again, you'll ruin their life!', Amy replied.

'I can't justify it but I have my fucking reasons', Ste was angry now, the drugs were a last resort. Nothing could mend his broken heart, so the best idea was to numb it.

'The love of my life died Amy, fucking died! I'm broken hearted and your first and only concern was moving on! You didn't give me time to heal. You scratched at the cuts, pushed the blade in, constantly talking about how I was better off without him. You were wrong, it's clear now!', Ste pointed at himself. 'I needed my kids, I needed my best friend but you had to make this quick, eliminate all memories and good times of Brendan. Immediately starting on him hitting me! That's why I hurt you Amy. You went on and on about my fresh bruises and gave me a flashback. I panicked when I hit you. You can't put me in to that dark place without giving me a little time to get back out. I thought you were him, hurting me and now every time I look in the mirror or think about Brendan all I see is my mistake of letting myself get hurt again. You're making out that he was a monster, you just didn't understand! You didn't know him like I did. No one knew him like I did. I loved him. I do love him, will all me heart and soul, and I try to remember the good. I try so hard but everyone just constantly brings up the bad. The 'domestic abuse'. And I know why he hurt me and every time I think of the reason I want to be sick! And now it doesn't get out of my head! I was upset and you could only bring up the bad. Amy, I became depressed. I had no one but myself and my broken heart and I needed the drugs to numb and as a bit of company. And if you still think I'm being selfish, you can go. And we can pretend our friendship never existed. But you can't take my kids away from me'.

Amy stood and looked at Ste.

'You can't blame anyone for you taking drugs. It was your choice. But I can't be with you when you're like this. You can't be a father when you're like this. Get clean'. She opened the room door and left, without a second glance back.

It wasn't as easy as it sounded, getting clean. But Ste was sure now, there was something worth getting better for. He didn't want to jump to any conclusions, but he was sure Amy means he is allowed to see his kids once he's dropped the drugs, and there's no second choice to that.

Dr Browning returned soon.

'Basically', he said. 'We found heroin and rohypnol in your system. We don't know when you were given it, but we do know it was the day you were...'

'Yeah yeah', Ste gulped.

'The police have decided not to take action regarding the drugs due to the circumstances. They blame the hospital for not offering services to help you cope with the loss of Brendan Brady. The rohypnol however, it looks like you were spiked'.

Browning clasped his hands awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the current situation.

'Your ribs will heal eventually, along with the collarbone. Your..eh', Browning shifted.

'My what?', Ste asked quickly.

'Anus. Your anus has been stitched up and I suggest you don't put it to any use, like sexual intercourse for at least six months but if I were you, I'd leave it a year as it will be very painful. I'll prescribe you some longterm medication to dilute your feces, so it will come out as urine, to give your anus some relief however you will still excrete out of your anus, however it will be smaller and more...watery.'

Ste's face was a mix of green and red. From sickness and embarrassment.

'Eh...thanks', he swallowed to fill the silence.

'The hospital want to send you to rehab, however if you are monitored by a responsible adult, they are willing for you to just attend some classes', Browning flashed his teeth. This really would be coming clean. The thought of the looks on his kids faces, when he's back to the fresh faced bambi he was is delighting. Not that they'll see him is any different but the thought of the twisted possibility of them catching him taking a fix kills him inside. This is for them. His babies.

However, he needed to find someone responsible to monitor him and keep a constant eye on him, like he is a kid. There was only one blue eyes american on his mind.

'Doug. Douglas Carter. He's my responsible adult'.


	11. Mending

I would like to apologise for my lack of writing, I always hate it when people ignore their fics and here I am doing it. I just prefer reading than writing. Reviews are always appreciated! The best thing about writing a fic!

* * *

'Ste! Hey, sorry I left I had a shift to do but I tried to get out of it but Micheal said he couldn't work so...', Doug chanted frantically.

'Doug, Doug!', Ste laughed getting his attention immediately.

'Are you okay Ste? What's the matter? Why did you phone?', Doug asked worriedly.

'Yeah I'm fine. I just need a favour'.

'What?', Doug said hesitatingly. 'Listen Ste, I know you've been on some kind of drug, weed i'm guessing. If it's anything to do with that I...'.

'No, no!', Ste wouldn't involve Doug in that world, he wouldn't drag him back in to that place. 'I need you to discharge me!'

Doug gulped through the phone.

'Discharge? Ste it's a bit early. Three hours ago you were freaking out and I don't know if I'm strong enough to help you.'

Ste sighed and blew out a breath. He rubbed his face but his collar bone disagreed and he let out a groan as it twisted uncomfortably.

'Doug they're going to send me to rehab! I need you to help me, they said if I have someone's help they'll just make me go to classes. And I'm fine now, honestly. It was the drugs I had been spiked with that made me act loopy', Ste owned the art of convincing but for some reason the tension between himself and Doug said it all. Doug didn't want to look after him.

'Why do you need to go to rehab for weed?', Doug said full of confusion. Shit, Doug does not know about the heroin.

'They just want me to.. Eh you know, fix my problem. Get me away from the drug and drink all together', Ste stammered. God. He is an awful liar.

'Ste', Doug said, full of command and authority. He sighed through the phone. 'I know your lying'.

'No I'm not!', Ste replied, a little too strongly.

Ste..'

'I'm telling the truth!'

'Ste!'

Ste sighed in to his phone, he sighed a lot these days. Stress. The stress of _someone_ dying, the stress of loosing kids, the stress of drugs, of drink or currently possessing no job.

'Please just come pick me up'. Ste hung up immediately, ending the call abruptly, before Doug had the time to disagree.

He attempted to sit up now, in a room surrounded by strangers, other rotting patients. Stupid Mrs Raj in the corner wouldn't stop calling for her granddaughter.

That familiar young nurse reappeared, who goes by the name of Lindsey. She pulled the curtain round herself and Ste. She was so like Lynsey Nolan, her smile, eyes, hair. Constantly caring, always selfless. But the thought of Lynsey only reminded Ste of Brendan and he wasn't going to waste his time dwelling on _that_ man anymore, because it was positively worthless. A pointless heartbreak.

'How are you feeling today Ste?', Lindsey asked gently, smiling that Lynsey Nolan smile of hers. Ste nodded, as much as he hated this place he couldn't hate Lindsey.

'I want to go home', Ste sulked.

'You need to stay here Ste, I don't advise it', she said going through her notes. Mrs Raj was still calling on her granddaughter, asking where she was and when she was coming. Ste rolled his eyes.

'It's full of head cases!', he yelled.

'Mrs Raj is a regular'

'A regular _head case!_'

Lindsey just giggled.

'Anyways, my mate is coming for me in ten. I'm going home', Ste closed his eyes and smiled resolutely.

'Ste, please listen to me. It will take you so long to recover if you go home. And I'm not even going to mention the drugs..'

'Leave it! Alright!', Ste shouted, making Lindsey jump backwards.

'Fine', she replied. Getting on with her routinely checks quietly and Ste lost yet another friend. They weren't 'friends' exactly but it was one of the things he had closest to one.

Lindsey left and the tension was lifted, only to descend back again, like a cloud of fog when Doug's head appeared around the curtain.

'Okay?', he asked. Ste nodded and smiled.

'Am I going home then?', he chirped. Doug nodded and revealed the discharge papers.

'Surprise!' He waved the papers in Ste's face and he snatched them out of Doug's fingers. He gave Doug a small pat to the cheek but Doug looked far less happy.

'We need to talk Ste', Doug said softly, as if Ste was some demented child. It was a battle Ste was never going to win.

'Fine, but get me home first please'.

A nurse walked in pushing a wheelchair.

'Ready to go?', she asked. Ste looked at Doug, hinting for him to leave and the nurse helped Ste put on his previous track suit, which was still crisp with his blood. Ste shrieked quietly when he seen the blood and whispered 'stupid' to himself when he realised how much of an idiot he was for expecting the hospital to wash his bloody garments.

Ste rolled out on his wheelchair, with a bag full of prescribed drugs in tow. Doug pushed him out to the entrance of the hospital, like a baby in a pram and then helped him into the taxi which was waiting. The wheelchair was stuffed in the two seats beside him, with Doug and the driver in the front. _Wow_ what a 'gentleman'.

When they pulled up to Ste's grungy old flat, he felt a sickness at the pit of his stomach, there was still drug needles embedded in his carpet. So much temptation to himself and so much evidence to Doug about what drug Ste had really been using. It was unchangeable now. Doug would find out eventually.

As Doug unlocked the door of Ste's flat, pushing Ste's wheelchair in with him, he let out a shocked gasp as he looked at the forty or so needles lying across the floor, with blood on the tips and rust on the metal. Beer, lagger and cider cans were scattered along the floor. And smashed bottles of whiskey and vodka were sprinkled across the floor like shimmering snow drops.

Ste knew Doug was disgusted. Anyone would be. He pictured it now, Doug storming out leaving Ste again more isolated than ever.

'What.. The..', Doug whispered between breaths, and he faced Ste with a look far worse than disgust; _pity. _

'What happened?', he asked. Kneeling down on his hunkers to Ste's level and peering at his friend with emotion in his eyes. Ste knew Doug had no sexual or relationship type feeling toward him anymore. They were way past that. They were simply friends. A successful American deli owner and a junkie mancunian waster.

'I had to cope', Ste whispered in reply, drying his eyes but realising there was no tears. He was all cried out. Doug suddenly came towards him and Ste flinched. But was met with a gentle hug.

'We'll fix you for the kids, I promise'.


End file.
